Provenance
by Watermistress
Summary: Katara, a student of the world's leading waterbending expert, is called to the Fire Nation to continue her mentor's work after his supposed suicide. She is immediately swept into the Fire Nation's dark secrets as a prince and princess struggle for their father's crown, and the blood-soaked history of bending comes to light. Zutara. Rated for mild violence and dark themes.


_"Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end." Lucius Annaeus Seneca  
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Provenance

Part I: The Scroll

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Chapter I

Horizons

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_I stood before seven figures covered in masks and robes that seemed to be made of mist, ever changing and shifting as they hovered just inches above the water—so much like the fog that would roll off the waves lapping at the icy shores of my homeland. Light glinted off of them, casting tiny rainbows all around the otherwise dull and dark surroundings. The pristine white layers of misty silk dipped into the glassy surface of the stagnant water that surrounded me, creating little ripples that extended endlessly outward._

_"You dare enter this place and ask our favor? When it is you who has forced our hand? Insolent human!" One sage exclaimed through the empty black spaces of its mask._

_"I do not ask your favor. I only ask that you spare my people! There is another way to bring balance. There has to be." I spoke without meaning to. The words simply slipped through my lips, as if I had rehearsed and recited them a thousand times. But I felt the panic, the absolute horror building in my chest. I had to make them listen. I had to make them see._

_"There is no other way. Your people, and you as well, have ruined the balance with this unnatural power you possess. Now both of our worlds will be thrown into chaos." A sage to my left stated emotionlessly._

_"But if you simply took our power—" _

_"Nothing of what you ask is 'simple', child, " another sage said, this time with an air of pity in its voice. "We do not have the power to grant what you wish. The only one of us that does has been banished for his crimes."_

_"And the balance must be restored," the others chorused. _

_I collapsed to my knees, feeling the despair wash over me like a crashing wave, suffocating in its weight and making my head spin. I had failed. I had dabbled in a power that I didn't understand, and now for all I had done, I would face the consequences._

_I had wrought the destruction of us all._

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Seventh month, Year 100 A.S.C.

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"Katara! How late do you intend to sleep in, child? Chores don't finish themselves. And if they did, we women would end up as lazy as the men." Kana said, her craigly old voice startling me awake.

My eyes snapped open, and my vision swirled while my mind tried to transition from sleeping to waking. Wasn't I talking to someone? More than one—a group of... people? Important people. I blinked and blearily looked around the tent, seeing the familiar furs and hides glowing in the soft light of the fire pit in the middle of the room.

I rubbed my eyes, trying to focus. I felt... odd. Like I had left part of myself behind in that dream.

"Gran-Gran? What time is it?"

"Far past your time to wake up. You have chores to do, and then lessons to teach. Honestly, child. You haven't slept in this late since before your mother..." She cut herself off as I felt my shoulders tighten"...Perhaps the winter darkness is getting to you?"

I shook my head. "No, Gran-Gran, I'm fine, I just..." I looked down at my hands, clenched desperately into my sleeping furs. I could still feel the cold sweat on my forehead and back, the desperation clawing to the surface, the utter uselessness I felt, though I didn't understand why. "I had the dream again."

Gran-Gran immediately stopped fussing with the fire pit, fixing those wizened eyes on my face.

"Do you remember any of it this time?" The old woman asked gently, as if speaking to a frightened polar-dog pup. I probably looked like one, all bundled in my furs, spooked out of my mind. I was thankful it was Gran-Gran that woke me and not Sokka or my father. Sokka probably would have just thrown a pair of dirty socks on my face to wake me up and then demand I make him some food. Dad probably would have been sympathetic, but it would also frustrate him that his only daughter was distressed, and he couldn't do anything to fix it. You couldn't knock out a bad dream with a polar-whale-bone club, after all.

I shook my head at Gran-Gran's question, as I always did when asked that. I never remembered the dream. Only the feeling of the dawning terror in my stomach, and the still, dark water at my feet. No matter how many times I woke from that nightmare, I couldn't remember what made me feel this way. It was like the times I would find a bruise or a scrape on my arm, but have no idea how it got there—it was... unsettling.

My grandmother watched me for another few moments, before settling a warm, gloved hand on my hair. "Not to worry, sweet Summer child. You will understand when you are meant to. I am sure of it."

I sighed at the gentle contact, letting the tension seep from my muscles, already feeling the fear melt away under my loving elder's reassurance.

Gran-Gran turned and hobbled her way back to the fire pit. I yawned, stretching my hands up to touch the low, tanned hide ceiling, letting any lingering doubts about my dark dreams slip away. Then—as I did every morning—I reached to my neck, making sure my mother's necklace was securely tied. Gran-Gran caught the movement and chuckled quietly.

"Such an odd necklace," She paused, then rolled her eyes. "But then, it was made by Pakku, so I shouldn't be surprised."

I frowned at her, rubbing the smooth blue stone with my thumb—a nervous habit of mine. "There's nothing wrong with it..."

"No, child. It isn't wrong. The Southern Water Tribe lost the tradition after the first years of the Fire Nation Raids, but in the north, a betrothal necklace is carved with the suitor's family crest, unless the woman is of a higher rank—a rare occasion in the north—then it is carved with hers."

I had memorized the carving of my mother's necklace by heart. I knew it was the symbol of the Water Tribes inscribed so delicately in the bright azure stone, as sure as I knew my own name. "Why would they do that? Why couldn't they carve anything they wanted?"

Kana's face fell, and her shoulders hunched down into her small frame. I instantly regretted asking, cursing my uncontrollable curiosity.

"I'm sorry, Gran-Gran, I shouldn't—"

She shook her head. "While I'm glad that you never had to know the darkness of war, you are old enough to know some of the more disturbing necessities it wrought upon our people," she stared into the fire, the light flickering in her blank eyes. "As the Fire Nation began its assault on the world a hundred years ago, the Water Tribe changed its way of life to accommodate the lingering threat of decimation. A darkness existed in our days—we were always waiting for those cursed black ships to appear on the horizon."

I shivered. It was too much like the frightening stories Dad would tell Sokka and I around the fire when we were too keyed up to sleep. Only this time I knew it was no mere story told to keep the tribe's children in line.

_You had better behave, or the firebenders will come. They'll snatch you up, like a raven-hawk after a snow-hare, take you back to the Fire Nation. Eat you after they roast you—_

Gran-Gran steeled her eyes, and stared into mine. "Suitors carved their family crest into their betrothed's necklace so that, if they were separated in an invasion, the woman might find her way to her husband's family quickly, for protection... Or if she did not make it, then she might be identified. The Stone would survive the flames if her skin did not."

My hands flew up to my mouth, muffling a cry of horror. A dark feeling settled in my gut, forever twisting the way I would think of my mother's beautiful trinket—a family heirloom—that was tied securely around my neck. For the first time since I put it on all those years ago, I could feel the heavy weight of it there, hanging delicately in the hollow of my throat.

As I took in everything she had said, Gran-Gran sighed and sat down next to me on my sleeping furs, rubbing my shoulders as my head spun.

I couldn't stop the image from snapping into my mind's eye—a woman, once beautiful, charred black beyond recognition, with a shining blue stone lingering where her neck would have been.

I shuddered, tasting the acid of vomit in the back of my mouth.

"Forgive me, sweet Summer child. I did not mean to burden you, especially after you had the dream again. But, as dark as it was, it was still a tradition born of necessity. So you could imagine the shock when Pakku, a high-ranking waterbender in the Chief's Private Guard, carved a necklace with the symbol of the Water Tribes for his betrothed."

"For you," I surmised.

She chuckled a bit sadly. "Yes, for me. Though at the time, I did not love him as I do now, and I fled to the south not even a few hours after he presented the necklace to me," she looked out the tent flap, as though if she looked hard enough, she might see the icy shores of her former northern home.

"In any case, it was seen as quite the insult, to both his family and the Chief. It was as if he was casting away his family crest, and claiming the entire Water Tribe as his own. A very pompous thing to do, even for Pakku. And as a powerful young waterbender, some people in the tribe feared that he wanted to usurp the ruling house, but I knew he would not. He was far too loyal, even if he did have the strength to do it."

"So why did he do it then? Why didn't he carve a necklace with his own family crest?"

She shrugged. "He never told a soul why. Not even me."

.oO000Oo..oO000Oo..oO000Oo..oO000Oo.

An hour later, I had my chores finished and was making my way down an icy path to the modest training area that my former waterbending master, Pakku and I had set up for the few new waterbenders emigrating into the Southern Water Tribe. With how late I slept in, my students had probably beaten me there. I quickly started planning the day's lesson and training routines in my head as I picked up my brisk walk to a light jog.

After the war ended twenty-five years ago, the Northern Water Tribe decided that they had alienated their sister tribe long enough, and sent warriors and a master waterbender to help the struggling tribe in the south rebuild after the Fire Nation's repeated raids left them on the brink of decimation. Although the reconstruction had gone accordingly, and our quaint village had become a small city, there had been a bit of a conflict between the two parties. The southern tribe had a different way of life from the northern, and the differences were hard to reconcile. Women had the right to learn any form of bending in the south—a fact that Master Pakku had opposed adamantly. At first this hadn't been a problem, as there were no female waterbenders—or any benders, really—in the Southern Water Tribe prior to the northerners' arrival.

Until I was born, that is.

At first, Master Pakku would have nothing to do with me. I was a _female_ after all, and a child no less—barely seven years old at the time. What business did I have learning combative waterbending? I should have been observing the healers, getting ready to apprentice them when I was old enough.

Even at such a young age, his dismissal had made my blood boil.

But with a stern talking-to from Kana—Pakku's first love and my respected grandmother—he reluctantly agreed to teach me waterbending.

And I had been a shockingly fast learner.

At the age of fourteen, I was considered a master among my peers—a feat unheard of in either tribe. And two years later when my bending master was called to the Fire Nation on official business—something about scrolls the Fire Nation had stolen from the tribe during the war—I was the one he entrusted to take his place, much to the surprise of everyone in the tribe. Master Pakku of the Northern Water Tribe? Appointing a _woman_ as his successor? It was cause for gossip, and suspicion. Had her grandmother talked him into it? Pakku had always been a sucker for Kana. Perhaps Chief Hakoda, the girl's father, had ordered Pakku to give her the honor?

But I hadn't been shocked, and I ignored the talk that flew around the tribe. I was his brightest student, after all. Having known about Pakku's feelings in teaching a girl how to use waterbending for fighting, I had never taken his offered lessons for granted, and had worked harder than I ever had in my life to earn the coveted title of "Pakku's Favorite Student".

So when I stepped into the large-domed ice structure of our practice center, I was shocked to see that none of_ my_ students were even there.

I checked the back rooms where our gear was kept, even went as far to knock on the changing room's door, but there wasn't any answer. Perplexed—and not entirely prepared to waltz into the boy's changing rooms—I decided to wait a little while for them to show. Perhaps Dad had called them away for something. It had happened before, and I had chewed my dad out for stealing my students to do menial chores or go along on a hunt when they should be practicing.

After nearly a half an hour of foot-tapping-impatience, it was clear that no one was coming to my lesson that day.

I had a short moment of panic. Where were my students? Had they decided they didn't want a girl, let alone a young girl, teaching them combative waterbending? Had they gone elsewhere to train? What would Pakku think when he returned to see that his star pupil hadn't even been able to handle teaching a small group of waterbenders still in the beginner's sets? He would be so disappointed in me. Worse, he would probably make me sit in ice water again, as he had when I demanded he teach me the advanced set before I was ready. _"Cool off,"_ he had said. _"Then maybe you'll listen a little better."_

I quickly shook my head, already shivering at the thought.

I stomped out of the practice center, concocting a fitting punishment for students that skipped their lessons without so much as a word. I would drag them to the practice center by their toes if I had to.

"I'll show you a lesson..." I mumbled to myself as I wrapped my parka tighter around me. "Skipping out on me? Ha! They'll wish they could swim all the way back to the North Pole!"

The air outside was freezing, biting at my cheeks as I rushed outside. The winter months in my homeland were unforgiving and dark, driving even the strongest man to desperation if he didn't know how to adapt to it. But my people didn't only adapt—we thrived in this frozen land.

"Katara! Master Katara!"

I whipped around, hearing Harok—one of my absentee students—call out from down the path to the docks. I puffed up, prepared to give him the lecture of a lifetime for skipping out on his training, when I noticed how he was dressed. I deflated, and felt a spike of fear pierce my belly.

He was wearing the warrior's uniform.

The thick sleeves and layers of the warrior's parka were made over twenty-five years ago for a single purpose—to provide as much fire-resistance to the wearer as possible. Not that it had slowed the firebenders much. Fur was still flammable, after all. But the black, grey, and white face paint turned even the innocent-faced Harok into something fearsome in its anonymity. Within its dark shadows and skull-like design lay a fierce soldier, ready to fight savagely to his last breath.

It was an intimidating sight, even when I knew Harok couldn't hold a candle to my skill in waterbending, and would never try to hurt me in the first place.

"What's going on? Where are the others? Why are you dressed that way—"

Even as I desperately fired my questions at him, I took off at a dead sprint towards the docks, not waiting for him as he skidded to a stop and floundered to turn around and follow me.

"Master Katara! Please wait!"

As I ran through the main square of huts and ice buildings surrounding the Community Fire, I began to notice the emptiness of the usually busy walkways and trade stalls. No fires gleamed from within the huts. No torches were lit at any of the vendor's carts. Even the pathway down to the docks was unusually dark, where whale-shark-oil lamps usually kept it bright during the dark winter months.

A knot of dread began to form in my chest, working its way into my throat. What was happening? There were firm rules in place that fires needed to be lit in the dark months for safety and warmth. Gran-Gran had told me horrible stories about the war, when our tribe would have to sit in the darkness for hours, hoping that the Fire Nation ship on the horizon wouldn't spot them...

I nearly tripped as realization dawned.

Was that it? Had the Fire Nation decided to forgo the shaky peace they had established twenty years ago? It would explain why all of the fires were out, why there wasn't a soul in the town square—

I wasn't moving fast enough. I whipped my hands in front of me, turning the snow steps down to the docks into a sleek ice slide. Using my waterbending to twist and turn to keep me from flying into a wall, I flew down the slide, barely registering Harok struggling to do the same behind me.

Our tribe may have grown within these years of peace, even larger than it was before Sozin attacked the Air Nomads. But to have another war with the Fire Nation? Now, when we were right in the middle of rebuilding our war-torn nation?

Not only would it destroy our city. It would shatter any hope my tribe had left.

Finally, as I rounded the last corner of the path, I spotted the crowd of people gathered at the docks. My father was standing at the front, staring solemnly out at the sea, looking ever like the chief of our tribe. Bato, his best friend and second in command, stood next to him. Sokka was holding one of his ridiculous inventions up to his eye—a "look-y thing" I remembered him calling it—looking in the same direction that Dad and Bato were.

I skidded to a stop just as the icy path turned to the dark wood of the docks, not turning around when I heard Harok stumble and swear behind me. I cut through the crowd, hearing them nervously murmur around me before I finally made it to my place on my father's left side. I looked into his face, but he gave no sign of emotion or response to whatever had drawn the crowd here. From the quiet whispering I heard from our people, he was probably doing it on purpose—putting on the face of a leader in front of his frightened people.

"Dad? What's happening?" I winced at the nervousness that had seeped into my voice. I was sixteen now, a grown woman in my tribe's eyes, and the daughter of the Chief no less. I shouldn't sound so scared, especially in front of the entire populace of our tribe. I stiffened my back and widened my stance to that of a warrior rather than a scared little girl, and hoped to the Spirits that I looked more confident than I felt as my father turned to me.

"Katara, I'm glad you're here. Slept in, did you?"

I shook my head, not wanting to beat around the problem at hand. He seemed to sense this, and nodded toward the sea.

"Apparently, we have an unscheduled visitor," Bato said as he put a steady hand on my shoulder.

I turned and squinted out into the darkness, but even the small amount of light from the waxing moon couldn't help me distinguish anything from the dark waves. Confused, I turned to Sokka, who without his usual bluster, handed me his invention, and pointed to the brightest star just over the horizon.

"Point it at the Leaping Snow-Leopard's Tail, then down and to the west. You'll see it."

I did as he said, spotting the star, then looking down and to the left. Just barely visible on the horizon, I could see small orange lights glinting off of a large dark object.

While trade with the Earth Kingdom had grown stronger within the past twenty years, they always sent word ahead as to when their ships would be coming in so that the trade items could be prepared. And they almost never sent in ships in the dark winter months, as icebergs were much harder to see, and far too large for the heavier Earth Kingdom ships to maneuver around.

And Earth Kingdom ships weren't as black as the night sky.

"Fire Nation," I spat, passing my brother's contraption back to him. Bato and Dad both nodded at my assessment.

Dad and Bato had told Sokka and I about some of the more deadly Fire Nation war tactics when we were little, trying to scare us into behaving. They said that the firebenders painted all of their ships dark colors—menacing blacks and reds to blend in with the shadows, to sneak up on their unsuspecting targets in the dark winter nights. The tales had been frightening enough to make Sokka and I paranoid of the ominous darkness beyond the shores of the village for years, constantly on the lookout for black ships looming in the dark waters.

_You had better behave, or the firebenders will come. They'll get you, burn you up—_

And when Chief Hakoda and his wife, Kya deemed their children old enough, they had taken us to the annual Peace Celebration held on Kyoshi Island. For the first time, I had seen one of those terrifying ships lay anchor just off the shore in the bay, bearing the Fire Nation's royal family to the celebrations. It had been an intimidating sight, but seeing it in the daylight had disillusioned it from the stories my dad had told Sokka and I.

I didn't remember much from those first few celebrations. I was too little—too ignorant to understand why everyone gathered there, and too innocent to feel the tension that always filled the small island for those few days.

But I remembered that ship. It's blackened shape was burned into my memories.

But the next year, Mom didn't make the trip home with us from Kyoshi. After that, I never went to another celebration with my father. I threw myself into training to become a master waterbender. Mom had always been so proud that her daughter could bend so well at such an early age. I would become a master, and I would find the man who killed my mother. I would make him pay.

I never saw a Fire Nation ship again, not outside of my nightmares, anyway.

Until now.

"It could be a messenger ship. Perhaps the Fire Nation wants to restore trade with the Southern Water Tribe, now that we have grown large enough to rival our sister tribe," Bato, still with his hand on my shoulder, gave a gentle squeeze of reassurance. I hoped he hadn't felt the shiver of fear that had shot up my spine when I saw the dark ship.

"It's far too big to be a messenger ship, but we can't jump to conclusions. I don't think it's spotted us yet—it's moving too slowly," I said, knowing that any ship as agile as the Fire Nations' wouldn't move that slow if they knew where they were going.

Sokka laughed and pointed at the ship. "Ha! I bet they're scouring their maps and cursing us and all the Spirits right now. I hear firebenders are useless sailors," he snorted in amusement. "Sort'a fitting."

"Yes, that's exactly how I feel. Which is why I sent Harok for you, Katara," Dad said as he turned to me. "I would like you to take your best waterbenders out with you in four canoes and guide them to the docks. At the rate they're going, they probably won't get here until the Midnight Sun months."

"What!" Sokka and I shouted at once. Bato just backed away, ushering the crowd back up the steps into the city and away from the dock, assuring them that their Chief was handling the situation. In reality, he was probably trying to avoid witnesses to their Chief being scolded by his two young children. The people were frightened enough as it was.

"Dad! An unscheduled ship from the _Fire Nation_ suddenly shows up, in the _dark months_ no less, and you want me to just _guide them in_?"

"Yeah! What if they want Fried Water Tribe-Kebobs for breakfast!" Sokka dragged his hands down his face, fingers clawed in the horror of being a potential snack to our former foes.

"Dad, this is a bad idea. We don't know what they want!"

Dad held his hands up. "Now, now. Calm down, the both of you. Sokka, they aren't going to fry us up and eat us, even if they do mean us harm. And Katara, we've been at peace with the Fire Nation for nearly twenty-five years, and have had a signed treaty with them for twenty. We can't assume that they have ill intentions."

"But—!"

"And there are probably near a hundred souls aboard that ship. Would you leave them out there to plunge straight into an iceberg, and sink to the bottom of the ocean? If it is a simple trade ship, there could be innocent civilians—mothers, children, even elderly aboard. Would you let them all drown?"

Curse the Spirits. He knew he had me on that one. Of course I wouldn't—_couldn't_ leave them out there. I would never turn my back on the people who needed me.

"And if it's a warship? What then?" I grasped for what I could, trying to convince him that this would put all of us, our very way of life that we worked so hard to rebuild at risk.

"Then you are a master waterbender of the Southern Water Tribe out in the middle of the ocean with a single ship to oppose you," he grinned with pride, showing his utmost faith in me, and my abilities. "I'm sure you'll figure something out."

.oO000Oo..oO000Oo..oO000Oo..oO000Oo.

Half an hour later, my best students and I had gathered on the docks, and were preparing the four sleek fishing canoes for our departure. Normally these canoes wouldn't make it so far out into the ocean—the higher waves would flip them if they were sailed too far from the calmer waters near the docks. But controlled by skilled waterbenders, they could be used as highly maneuverable vessels, able to avoid flipping into the dangerously freezing water and zipping around an enemy target with ease.

Now they would be used as a greeting party for a ship from the nation that had nearly destroyed my people not so many years ago. It made me want to throw something: preferably a sizable ice-spike at anything wearing red.

Just as I lowered myself into my canoe, Dad knelt on the edge of the dock, with Sokka standing just behind him.

"Katara. I have every confidence in your abilities and your judgment. If you feel threatened in any way by anyone on that ship, I will support any action you take in response. Do you understand what that means?"

I did. "Yes. I won't let you down."

"Good. Be sure to go easy on these canoes, Katara. They're priceless, you know. I couldn't possibly replace them."

I had a feeling he wasn't talking about the boats.

"I'll bring them back safe and sound, Dad," I smiled up at my family. "I promise."

"Hey, knock some firebender heads while you're out there, would'ya? I've always wanted to..."

I couldn't help the laugh, though Dad frowned in disapproval. "Sure thing, Sokka."

By the time we made it to the ship, the sun was creeping up just beneath the horizon, giving barely enough light to make out the entirety of the ship. Before long, the sun would sink back down, once again leaving my home and the surrounding ocean in darkness. Such was the winter months in the south.

And it explained why a Fire Nation ship was completely lost in our waters, always trying to use the sun as a guide rather than the moon and stars. The sun would be a useless guide even in summer. It simply moved in a circle across the sky, barely sinking below the horizon before starting anew.

All of these thoughts were made trivial, however, when I finally had enough light to see _which_ Fire Nation ship I would be guiding back to the tribe.

It was the same ship I had seen at Kyoshi Island all those years ago, and in my worst dreams ever since—the Royal Family's ship.

It hadn't changed at all in the nine years I hadn't seen it. There was no sign of wear or rust. No barnacles or moss on the hull. The black metal was still glossy, as if it were on its maiden voyage. The stern spiked severely upwards into three solid gold bowsprits. I knew from Dad and Bato's stories that these giant golden pieces of metal dropped to reveal a gaping opening, that when docked in a properly accommodating port, would allow easier access on and off the ship. As it was, our small dock would be dwarfed by this metal behemoth. I hoped they had managed to bring a smaller vessel with them. Otherwise we would have to ferry them to shore in our smaller schooners, and that would take hours.

I waved Harok, a more advanced student, along with Tarok, his younger brother to the starboard side, while I took the port side with Naoka, another younger student, but gifted in his talent.

The helmsmen seemed to have spotted us, because when the four of us moved into position on the fore and aft of either side making a square around the vessel, the ship seemed to speed up to our pace. I couldn't hear any shouting on the deck, nor did I see any cannons pointing our way, but I stayed a safe distance from the port side stern all the same. My heart was pounding wildly. I was confident in my abilities. Against one ship surrounded by ocean, even an intermediate waterbender could do a lot of damage. But this was no ordinary ship. A ship such as this was built for protection, to carry the Royal Family safely wherever they may go. I wasn't even sure if my sharpest, deadliest ice-spike would penetrate what was sure to be a multilayered, metal-plated hull.

As we neared the shore, the massive ship slowed to a stop and dropped anchor. Just as my father had said, the massive bowsprits dropped one-by-one until I could see a giant ramp leading into the dark innards of the ship. The others had already docked, and were pulling the canoes out of the water. I quickly jumped up onto the dock did the same. Dad, Sokka, Bato, a small group of warriors and I were the only ones left on the dock. I turned and saw that the people had moved from the docks up the path to the edge of the village, watching hesitantly, looking like they were all ready to flee.

I couldn't blame them. That ship looked just about as big as our small city. Many of our younger citizens had never even seen a Fire Nation ship before, and the elderly certainly held no fond memories of them.

We stood silently on the dock, watching as the huge ship seemed to spit out a more moderately sized steamer, though it still looked as large as our biggest schooner.

I scoffed. "Ugh. A ship within a ship. That seems entirely inefficient. Why do they make everything so _big _in the Fire Nation?"

"Ha! That's what she—"

"Sokka. Not exactly the appropriate time," Dad scolded.

"Right. Uh, sorry."

The steamer chugged loudly toward the shore, spitting its black smoke into the clean air around them. It slowed to a stop at the end of the dock, and my fingers twitched with nervous energy, instinctively connecting to all of the water sources around me. Dad, however, seemed calm. He had met the Fire Nation's Royal Family before after all, at the Peace Celebrations. But I knew my father well, and I was sure that he had already thought through the scenarios of what an unannounced visit from Fire Nation royalty could bring.

Two soldiers wearing white skull masks jumped onto the docks to tie their ship safely. A metal gangplank was flipped over, and before I could blink, countless soldiers were filling the dock. I instantly dropped into a stance, feeling my heart jump wildly—

Bato grabbed my arm roughly before I could follow through with it, fiercely glaring at me and shaking his head. I was thrown at the angry look on his face, but then I froze, thinking through what I had almost just done.

To attack a member of the Fire Nation's royal family would certainly spell our destruction, perhaps even spark another global war.

_Behave, or they'll get you, burn you up—_

I forced the stiffness out of my shoulders, and cracked my neck, releasing the tension building in my spine. I felt the other warriors do the same behind me. Now was no time to act rashly. Even if this was some kind of attack, they only brought a small group to shore. We would easily overcome them and escape into the tundra before they could send reinforcements.

_Relax, Katara. You are a waterbending master surrounded by your element. Relax._

A few seconds later the soldiers organized themselves into two lines along the edges of the dock, facing each other. As one, they lifted their hands to their foreheads in a stiff salute.

"All hail Iroh, Lord Regent of the Fire Nation!" One soldier announced, making all of us stiffen right back up.

The _Fire Lord_? Here? I had expected perhaps the prince or princess, maybe even just a royal messenger or something, but the _Fire Lord_?

What could he possibly want, to have come all the way to the South Pole _personally_?

"Goodness. You boys certainly know how to give an old man an entrance." Fire Lord Iroh said as he stepped from the gangplank onto the dock.

"Yes, Fire Lord Iroh," the same soldier that had announced his lord stated tonelessly. The old monarch just chuckled, hiding his hands within his long sleeves.

Dad had told Sokka and I that Fire Lord Ozai had fallen into a sudden illness, and was bedridden in a comatose state, and that his older brother had temporarily taken his place as Regent Fire Lord until Ozai recovered or an heir was chosen among his two children. I didn't really understand their hierarchy much. It seemed like his eldest should assume the throne, but Dad told me it wasn't so simple.

But Regent Fire Lord Iroh wasn't exactly... what I had been expecting.

As I didn't remember much about the few Peace Celebrations I had attended, Sokka often described what the royalty of the other nations looked like, and all of the silly things they did or said.

(My favorite was the story of how King Kuei's bear had torn up Chief Arnook's favorite cloak and nearly started a brawl between the Earth and Water representatives.)

Sokka had described the previous Fire Lord as severe—his thin lips and brows always pulled into a look of utter annoyance, and seemed to be coiled like viper-cobra, ready to release his fury on any who questioned him.

The Regent Fire Lord, however, seemed to be the complete opposite—he wore a content smile and a rounded belly. He was relaxed, even bundled up in what I could guess was many layers of fabric. He walked right up to my father, not even hesitating to offer his hand in our traditional warrior's greeting.

"Chief Hakoda. It is great to see you again. And Sokka," the lord offered his hand to my brother as well, "you've gotten taller since last year's celebration!"

Sokka beamed as Lord Iroh greeted Bato before finally turning to me.

"And you must be the young Miss Katara. I've heard much about you. A waterbending master at age fourteen, an impressive feat in any nation," he took my hand and held it gently between both of his as his eyes glossed over, looking almost sad. "You look exactly as Pakku described. Truly a gem hidden here in the snow and ice."

I blushed, feeling a little put on the spot as the men around me stared. This had been happening lately. Dad would mention my future, how I was growing up so fast. He would talk about me to some of the men in the tribe, and they would stare. It was awkward. I had taken to simply avoiding most of the boys my age except for my students and Sokka. And if any of my students started staring, I made them run laps around the city wall while Sokka's glare drilled holes into their backs.

They had quickly learned to hide their staring.

"Ahem. Lord Iroh, I believe it's safe to assume that you did not travel so far to simply flatter my children?"

Iroh released my hand and I stepped back. He sighed, closing his eyes. "Unfortunately, no. Though I wish that were my only motive. I'm afraid that I bring unfortunate tidings. Perhaps we should move somewhere more private to speak?"

Hakoda shook his head. "I trust my children and my men with any affairs you wish to discuss. I wouldn't think of keeping anything from them, even an unfortunate tiding."

My stomach dropped as Iroh looked into my eyes, then down at the wooden dock below our feet.

"Very well," he raised his head and looked my father in the eyes, one leader speaking equally to another, sharing his sympathy and pain.

"It is my great regret to tell you that the Honorable Master Pakku of the Northern Water Tribe has passed on into the Spirit World."

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Chapter One End


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